And Then There's You
by Spnchick09
Summary: Sometimes there is no closure. There's just a thirst for answers that's only quenched by the rain. Naley AU.


_**And Then There's You**_

_The point shaving was never discovered – therefore, Nathan's scholarship offer to Duke was never rescinded._

_Title taken from Greg Laswell's 'And Then You.'_

* * *

The thunderheads sit on the horizon, just barely meeting that impossible-to-find line where the ocean and the sky meet. The clouds are still miles away – it'll be the middle of the night before rain falls – but they're in sight.

Nathan sits on the shoreline and watches their steady approach, taking a long pull from his beer as the ocean laps at his feet. Lightning flashes across the sky and illuminates the hidden curves of the clouds as they come closer, revealing previously concealed shapes and forms as the wind picks up around him.

"Nate, what're you doin' out here, man? There are ten girls in there ready to punch your number into their phones. I've got a bet going with Ian that you'll sleep with at least three of them, so if you don't get in there and put that charming smile on, I'm gonna have to borrow a hundred dollars. Probably won't pay you back, though, if we're being honest."

Clay's voice breaks through the calm rhythm of the waves, and suddenly the quiet around Nathan is full of noise. The sounds of a raucous after-party at the beachhouse behind him – the too-high giggling of drunken women and the frat-boy-esque cheering of the men waiting to take advantage of them – make Nathan feel even more tired than he did five minutes ago.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Nathan murmurs, "Not feelin' it tonight, man."

Nathan keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon as Clay sits beside him, mirroring his position. Pulling at the label on his beer, Clay says, "Look, Nathan – you played a hell of a game. I have no doubts that you'll make playoffs next year. I'm gonna work my ass off to get you a decent point guard 'cause Devreau's contract is up…"

The shake of Nathan's head stops him. "It's not that, Clay. I'm just – I miss loving the game, you know? Not playing it for a paycheck."

Clay's quiet for a moment, looking out to the waves ahead of them. Thunder can be heard softly in the distance as he asks, "You missin' home?"

Nathan shrugs, burying his feet into the sand. "Somethin' like."

* * *

"_It's a boy, Nathan. You're gonna have a son."_

* * *

It's been five years since Nathan left Tree Hill. The Seattle Sonics signed him after two years at Duke and he never looked back. Nights like these, though – the nights when he can see the rain coming in and awaits the steady rhythm of it – are the ones when he misses North Carolina the most.

Clay sits next to him in silence, both men watching as the clouds hide the moon behind a curtain of dark grey. Nathan can tell that Clay wants to ask – wants to find out why Nathan rarely discusses his life in Tree Hill before they met – but doesn't. If there's one thing that Nathan's made clear in the three years they've been friends, it's that Nathan's past is something that will never be discussed.

It's apparent that Clay's waiting for Nathan to speak again, so he finally says, "I think I'm gonna fly out east tomorrow."

Without missing a beat, Clay adds, "I'll get you a seat on the first flight out. You want a car to pick you up?"

"No," Nathan replies. "Just get somethin' set up with the rental place. I'll drive myself."

"Done," Clay nods. "How long will you be, Nate?"

Nathan can hear the underlying question in Clay's words.

_Are you coming back, Nate?_

Finishing his beer, Nathan answers, "I'll call you when I know."

"Cool, man. Do what you've gotta do."

* * *

"_Listen. There's a reason I played so bad tonight at first…"_

* * *

Nathan makes it inside his overly spacious apartment just as the rain begins to fall outside. Tossing his keys onto the small table just inside the door, Nathan pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time.

It's three in the morning, which means it's nine in the evening in Sydney, Australia.

Walking to his bedroom, Nathan dials an old, familiar phone number without even glancing at the screen. He doesn't bother to flip on the lights – just collapses on top of his unmade bed and listens as the call connects.

The line rings five times before a tentative voice answers.

"Nathan? That you?"

"Yeah," Nathan rasps. "Hi, Luke."

Lucas is quiet – if Nathan couldn't hear the telltale static of an overseas phone call, he'd assume that his brother had dropped the call.

When Lucas does speak again, his voice is bitter. "You're calling me for the first time in years and that's your intro? 'Hey, Luke?' Nate, what the hell?"

"I know," Nathan apologizes. "I'm sorry. I just – I've had a rough night."

"Yeah, I saw that. Didn't make the playoffs, huh?"

"It's not just that," Nathan quickly answers. "It's – well, kind of everything."

Lucas is quiet again.

"Look, if it's a bad time, I'll let you go. I just wanted to talk to someone." After a moment, he continues, "You're in Australia, right? On that book tour?"

Cautiously, Lucas asks, "You know about that?"

That brings a wry smile to Nathan's lips. "Of course I do. Congratulations, man. On everything."

Everything includes a marriage, a baby girl, and three novels featured on the New York Times best-sellers list.

Nathan wasn't there for any of it.

"Thanks. You, too. Makin' it to the NBA, that's – well, it would have been nice to celebrate it with you."

Even after five years, Nathan can still hear that familiar bite in Lucas' tone. Unable to think of an appropriate response, he exhales and waits for his brother to speak again.

He isn't surprised when Lucas' next words are, "Well, I should probably go. Got an early start tomorrow."

"Wait, Luke, I…"

Shutting his eyes, Nathan continues, "How's Haley?"

"She's fine," Lucas says without any hesitation. "If you hadn't broken contact with everyone back home, you'd know that yourself."

The line goes dead.

* * *

"_If we can locate a heartbeat, there's no reason to believe this baby won't be perfectly healthy."_

* * *

Nathan's developed an efficient practice for getting through the airport: check bags, take a few pictures, go through security, sign a few autographs, present boarding pass, smile and thank the attendant for praising his performance in the last game, board the plane.

It's just the actual flight where he's lacking an effective routine.

And if he's being honest – and he rarely is these days – he's terrified of flying.

It's not the height or the possibility of a crash en route that scares him. It's the way that soaring above the clouds never fails to catch him off guard – the sheer beauty of white towers and cotton-candy-flooring that can't be seen from the ground take his mind to places he'd be better off forgetting.

But he always ends up there. Stuck in the same rut he's been in for the past five years.

After breezing through security, Nathan finally slides into his seat on the plane and lets out a slow sigh. He fastens his seatbelt, pulls the window shade all the way down, and crosses his arms.

If he's crossing them to hide the shaking of his hands, that's no one's business but his own.

* * *

"_I'm so sorry. There's no easy way to say this, but – Haley, I believe you've suffered a miscarriage. I can't find a heartbeat."_

…

"_Wait, my accident – that was Dante's revenge?"_

"_I'm so sorry, Haley. I never meant…"_

"_Get out."_

…

"_You should take the scholarship, Nathan. It's your dream to play at Duke. You can't give that up."_

"…_what about you, Hales? You're comin' with me, right?"_

"_No. I, um – my enrollment deposit cleared this morning, Nathan. I'm going to Stanford."_

…

"_Haley, I don't want to leave you! We can work through this…"_

"_No we can't, Nathan! Every time I look at you, all I can think about…"_

"_God, Haley, I know! It's my fault! I'm the reason we lost our baby, I'm the reason your leg is broken – I get it. But I can't lose you, too. Not after losing our child. I love you, Hales."_

"…_I know. I love you, too, Nathan…"_

"_Then why won't you stay with me?"_

"…_Because I can't forgive you. I can't forgive you for any of it."_

* * *

Nathan startles awake, the ache in his chest a familiar yet unwelcome feeling. Glancing at his watch, he realizes he's been asleep for almost four hours.

When the flight attendant makes her way down the aisle, Nathan stops her. "Hey, how much longer do we have?"

"Less than an hour. We're making great time," she says with a smile.

Nathan knows that smile well – it's overly friendly and not at all interested in whether he wants pretzels or animal crackers. He thanks her and then opens the window shade next to him, hoping she'll take the hint.

She doesn't.

"Anything I can get you, Mr. Scott?"

Sighing, he replies, "Yeah, sure. A water?"

As she digs through her cart, she gushes, "You played great in the game last night, Nathan. Really impressive."

He forces a smile. "Thanks."

The flight attendant – the nametag on her uniform says Megan – continues to talk about his performance in the game, but Nathan blocks her out. She hands him a bottle of water with a napkin and doesn't stop the flow of praise even when Nathan pointedly turns his body towards the window as much as he can.

When she asks a question and he doesn't answer, she finally walks away and Nathan breathes a sigh of relief.

There was a time when he thrived on the attention – basked in the novelty of it and embraced it with everything he had. Now, though, he prefers the quiet and solitude that's so hard to find.

It usually only comes in the rain.

* * *

"_Is there anything I can say, Haley? Anything I can do?"_

"…_Good luck at Duke, Nathan. You're gonna do great."_

"_Haley, I'm so sorry…"_

"_Goodbye, Nathan."_

* * *

Nathan lost her on the day of their graduation. When he gained a second chance and an opportunity to follow his dream, he lost the only person who'd ever made it worth it. The sight of her signature on pristine, white papers – _Haley James_ – had made him sick to his stomach. He'd lost everything that had ever mattered.

Haley.

Their child.

Their future together.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

* * *

"_Honey, you should know – Haley's back in Tree Hill."_

"_Why would you tell me that, Mom?"_

"_Because no one else will and I think you should know."_

"…_How is she?"_

"_She's single, from what I hear. Karen's out of town for the summer, so Haley's running the café until she gets back. And when the Sonics are playing, every television in the café is tuned into the game."_

* * *

It's been three hours since his flight landed, but he's spent a majority of that time taking every possible back road into Tree Hill. He's been trying to avoid the inevitable.

But now he's standing across from Karen's Café, and what little composure he maintained through the flight has escaped him.

His hands won't stop shaking. He can feel the adrenaline and apprehension thrumming through his veins as he watches a woman cleaning tables in the window. The glare of the streetlight is preventing him from being able to see her clearly, but he _knows_ it's Haley.

He'd recognize the grace and fluidity in her movements anywhere.

He hasn't been home in years. Hasn't spoken to Haley since graduation. There's a moment where he can't remember why he thought this would be a good idea and he nearly turns around.

But before he realizes it, he's inside the café. Pulled like a magnet to the only person who's ever been able to draw him in.

Haley's standing behind the counter, head down as she wipes it with a cloth. "Sorry, we're…"

When she looks up, Nathan's heart stops. He's played this moment out in his head for years, but the only greeting he can muster is a soft –

"Hi, Hales."

As she stands across from him, eyes full of shock and hands gripping the edges of the counter, he's struck by how beautiful she is. Her hair is shorter, the ends of it just barely grazing her shoulders. It's brown, now – a chocolate shade that perfectly matches her eyes – and _Christ_, he hadn't realized he'd missed her this much.

Haley blinks, shaking her head slightly as though she's just remembering where she is. She crosses her arms, but it's not out of anger. Nathan can hear the true bewilderment in her tone when she asks, "What are you doing here, Nathan?"

Shrugging, he says, "Just looking for a good cup of coffee."

Her eyebrows furrow together, smirk pulling at the corner of her lips when she asks, "Don't you live in Seattle?"

He can't keep from chuckling nervously as he says, "Yeah, I figured that wasn't the strongest opening line. Sorry."

Haley sighs, eyes flicking down to the counter. She goes back to wiping it down with her cloth as she asks, "How'd you know I was here?"

Nathan wrings his hands nervously. "My mom called, actually. Said you'd come back into town and were helping here for the summer."

"Oh," she nods like it's the answer she was expecting.

Silence looms between them for a moment as she turns to wipe the back counters. Nathan takes a few cautious steps forward, walking until he's just within reach of the barstools.

"So you're teaching in the fall, huh? My mom said you're…"

"Nathan," she cuts in, turning quickly.

His voice dies in his throat.

With a sad smile, she asks, "Why are you here?"

Nathan looks away from her. "I don't know."

When his eyes return to her, he can't ignore the _hurt-disappointment-sadness_ radiating from her gaze. After all this time, he was hoping some of that would have faded.

"I don't know," he says again. "I was sitting on the beach after the game and I could see the clouds out over the ocean. And when I got home, it was raining and I…"

Nathan pauses. Haley's watching him with tear-glazed eyes, so he shrugs and whispers, "It was raining," as if that's all the explanation he needs to give.

With Haley, it kind of is.

She waits a beat before making her way to the end of the counter. Nathan watches as she unties the small apron from around her waist and places it underneath the bar before speaking again.

"I don't really know what to say," she admits. "I didn't think we'd ever…"

She hesitates, attempting to force a smile to cover up the falter in her voice. And while it's been five years since Nathan's heard her speak, he can still remember what that waver in her tone means.

* * *

"…_Because I can't forgive you. I can't forgive you for any of it."_

* * *

His self-control crumbles as he says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

He turns to leave, his footfalls echoing loudly in the empty café as he stalks toward the door.

"Nathan, wait."

He stops but doesn't turn to face her. "I get it, Haley. You can't forgive me. I won't come…"

"Is that what you think?"

Her heels click against the floor as she steps closer to him. "Nathan, look at me."

It's not until her hand grasps his that he actually does turn. He doesn't bother trying to hide the grief in his voice – grief he's spent so much time burying – when he rasps, "I think about it every damn day, Hales."

"I know," she breathes. "And I'm sorry…"

He rips his hand from hers. "_You're_ sorry? For what, Haley?"

Haley doesn't even look surprised at his outburst. "I told you I couldn't forgive you."

"Don't," Nathan says, shaking his head fervently. "You can't forgive me, Haley. Not for something like this."

She's quiet for a moment, eyes falling to the floor. When she looks up again, tears are on her cheeks. "Nathan, it still hurts. It's always going to, you know? But I'm not angry with you anymore."

Nathan snorts. "You have every right to be mad at me."

"Yeah, well," Haley shrugs. "It just makes the pain worse."

It's then that he realizes the woman across from him is vastly different from the girl he knew five years ago. Sure, she's still just as fearless and strong and _beautiful_ as she ever was, but there's a quiet resilience evident in her now. Somehow, she found a way to move past the anger and the heartbreak of losing their son.

Nathan's so envious of her that it hurts.

"I should get going," he says abruptly, turning back to the door again.

"Nathan, why did you come back?"

Nathan pauses, looking ahead to the street outside.

* * *

"_Listen. There's a reason I played so bad tonight at first…"_

"_Nathan, look out!"_

* * *

He'll never be able to forgive himself.

"See you around, Hales."

He pushes the door open and leaves the café without looking back.

* * *

_Get me on the next flight to Seattle._

Nathan sends the text message to Clay and tosses his phone into the passenger seat. He's already less than thirty minutes from the airport, speeding down the highway as fast as he can.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he keeps his eyes on the road and ignores the tears blurring his vision. It's been almost six years since the night of the state championship – he hasn't cried since and he sure as hell isn't going to start now.

He can't remember why he thought coming to Tree Hill was a good idea in the first place. After all, he has a great life – he plays in the NBA, sleeps with beautiful women whenever he wants, and has more money than he knows what to do with.

Coming home just made him realize how ridiculously unsatisfying everything in his life is.

His phone rings from the passenger seat, Clay's name appearing on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Clay replies. "I got you on the next flight, but it's not going to be until six tomorrow morning. Nothing else is flying out until then."

Nathan hits the steering wheel. "Not even a layover? Anything?"

Clay sighs. "Nate, look. I know you went to see Haley."

"How did you…?"

"I'm not an idiot, dude. Just because we don't talk about your past doesn't mean I don't have access to all your public records."

Letting out a breath, Nathan says, "It doesn't matter. I'm coming back to Seattle."

"Okay," Clay agrees. "But just in case you change your mind, you have all night to decide."

"I'm going to the airport and I'm getting my flight moved."

"Fine," Clay says. "But at least think about it, okay? You're not happy here – not the way you used to be. You need to figure out why that's changed."

Nathan rolls his eyes, pulling into the exit for the airport terminals. "Yeah, okay. Whatever."

He just wants to put all of this behind him.

Again.

* * *

"Hi," Nathan greets the clerk. "I have a ticket on a flight tomorrow morning and I want to see if I can switch it to something sooner."

"Okay, let's take a look," the woman grins. "What's your name?"

And then it hits him.

* * *

"…_Because I can't forgive you. I can't forgive you for any of it."_

…

"_Nathan. Why are you here?"_

"…_It was raining."_

…

"_Don't. You can't forgive me, Haley. Not for something like this."_

…

"_Nathan, why did you come back?"_

* * *

Nathan pulls his phone from his pocket, smiling sheepishly at the clerk when he says, "Uh, you know what? Never mind. I've got a call to make."

Praying that Haley's cell phone number hasn't changed, he quickly dials the number he remembers and waits for it to ring.

When it goes to voicemail and Haley's voice filters over the line, Nathan breathes a sigh of relief.

If she still has the same phone number, maybe he still has a chance.

The message ends, the phone beeps, and Nathan starts right in.

"I came to tell you that I love you. And that I'm sorry. And a million other things, but – Haley, I just need you to know how _sorry_ I am. I should've fought for you. We should've been together after everything happened. I never should've gone to Duke or Seattle. Not without you.

I'll never be able to forgive myself, Haley. I have to live with this guilt every single day. But if you can – if you really have forgiven me, then maybe…I don't know. Maybe I can forgive myself one of these days."

Nathan scrubs a hand through his hair. "Look, I – I'm at the airport. I'm supposed to fly back to Seattle but I need to know – if there is even the _slightest _possibility that you still love me, then I'll wait here. I'll come home and I'll be with you. And if not, I'll let you go."

He watches as people hurry inside the building from a sudden storm, the scent of fresh rainfall bringing a wave of calm through him.

"You asked me why I came back. That's why. I love you, Haley. Always will."

He disconnects the call and takes a shaky breath, sitting on one of the benches near the windows. From his seat, he can see both the storm outside and the sliding doors where people are hurrying inside from the rain.

The ball's in her court. If she calls him back, he'll call Clay and ask for a trade to the Bobcats. If she doesn't, he'll call Clay and tell him to find a decent point guard for the Sonics.

Until then –

He'll wait.


End file.
